


Head Held High (Teenage Pining Remix)

by sebastian2017



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Closeted Character, Erik Lehnsherr is not a Happy Bunny, Erik needs a hug, M/M, Mutant Prejudice, implied prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-05-31 11:35:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19425175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sebastian2017/pseuds/sebastian2017
Summary: Charles Xavier is the last person Erik wants to talk to, crush or no crush. Sure, Charles doesn't say nasty things to him, but he sits around quietly while it happens, which is just as bad.But maybe he and Charles aren't so different, after all.





	Head Held High (Teenage Pining Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [widgenstain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/widgenstain/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Tumblr Scribbles](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1028508) by [widgenstain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/widgenstain/pseuds/widgenstain). 



> CW: bullying, mutantphobia, slurs (against mutants and against gay men), mentioned prostitution, mentioned statutory rape, sexual harassment 
> 
> This is a remix of Chapter 9 of Widgenstain's Tumblr Scribbles. Enjoy!

Charles looks at him differently after that night. Erik notices because there’s really no way not to notice and it frustrates him more than words can say. There’s lots of things Erik needs, like money to pay rent, for his father to have never gotten sick and died, to go back home to Germany with the rest of his family, for his AP Lit essay to write itself, lots of things. The one thing Erik doesn’t need is pity. Certainly not from the likes of Xavier. He actually keeps good on his promise, even if Erik had refused, and a few days after their late night, Erik wakes up to find a new bike on his porch. 

Erik hates it. 

He makes sure to take it back that same day, leave it leaned up against Charles’ car in the parking lot when he gets to school. One of the wheels of his bike was messed up beyond repair, even for his powers, but Erik would much rather put up with his wobbly bike than accept charity like that. Once, he’d fantasized about getting close enough to Charles that they’d ride to school together and exchange gifts and eat their lunch together and whatever other cute things high school couples died. But then his dad died and his mutation manifested and everything else sort of just went to shit. 

Erik isn’t completely over Charles yet. He won’t pretend otherwise. He stares too long in the hallway, gets lost in the occasional daydream when his defences are down, pulls out their old yearbook late at night when he’s sure no one else is up. It’s pathetic, honestly, and Erik knows Charles is never going to get with a mutie freak like him, but Erik just can’t seem to get over his stupid crush. Perhaps it’s just easier to wonder whether the most difficult part of his life is an unrequited crush and not wondering whether they’ll make next month’s rent or trying to find somewhere to sit at lunch that won’t end with half the school calling him a mutie faggot freak while they walk past. 

If only worrying about a stupid crush could actually make any of the other things go away. 

If there was no one else to worry about, Erik would beat all those other boys up to within an inch of their lives. But if he does that, he’ll get expelled without a doubt and his mother would be absolutely heartbroken for Erik to lose what he has here. Erik can’t do that to her. So gritting his teeth and bearing with it is all he can do, even if it’s impossible to forget as he makes his bumpy ride home on his bicycle. Charles Xavier slowly drives up next to him on an empty side road, because of course he does, and rolls down his window. 

“You didn’t have to return the bike,” Charles calls out to him. 

Erik glances at him, but even as he replies, he makes no effort to stop pedaling. “I told you I don’t want your stupid money, Xavier.” 

“I don’t understand why you won’t just take it. It’s already bought, it was no trouble at all, and that one is clearly still giving you trouble,” he insists. 

“I can get by fine on my own,” Erik snaps. “You’re no better than any of them just because you turn around and buy me bikes in secret, you know? When you keep quiet while they say nasty things and go sit at their tables and party in their houses with their fancy cars and expensive liquors, when you do all of that, you give up the right to soothe your conscience by throwing money at me.” 

“Erik… It’s not like that. Can’t we talk? I’ll give you a ride, we’ll get something to eat and have a chat or something,” Charles offers. 

Erik scoffs. “As if. I have a shift at work in twenty minutes, so no. And even if I was free, I don’t want to talk to you.” 

He can’t exactly outpedal Xavier in his car, so he resorts back to nasty tricks with his mutation. With his powers, he reaches out to feel Charles’ car and rolls the window up, as well as stopping it at the side of the road. No damage or anything, just holding it still long enough for Erik to bike away and make it to work without Charles following after him like a spoiled puppy. He could get arrested for using his powers against a human’s private property like that, he knows, but Erik’s not thinking straight enough to care. He hopes that makes it clear enough that he doesn’t want to talk, but who knows with Charles Xavier. 

It’s no secret what beat up little diner Erik works in, if Charles does want to continue his little stalking thing. It’s about as old as the town itself and has a strong enough reputation that even Erik waiting tables there isn’t enough to scare everyone away. His second job had fired him as soon as his status as a mutant became public knowledge, too scared of the backlash of employing one of his kind, and nowhere else was willing to even give him a chance. Even his sister Ruth had to commute into the city for work. So, yes, it’s rather public knowledge what place was stubborn enough to keep a mutant on their work staff and Erik is undeniably grateful that Logan has kept him around. 

Erik spends most of his shift keeping a nervous eye on the front door, expecting Charles to come in at any second. His shift comes and goes, though, and Charles is nowhere to be seen. When he settles down in a back corner with a plate of fries and a milkshake, Erik is beginning to think he might have gotten away with one afternoon free of thoughts about Charles Xavier. Of course, that’s too good to be true. Within two minutes, Charles  _ does  _ walk in. With a whole crew of his snobby friends, too, so he rather predictably ignores Erik as they go to find a table for themselves. That’s bad enough on its own, but then, of course, Sebastian Shaw walks in right after them, the one person in this whole state who Erik probably wants to see even less than Charles. 

Sebastian Shaw. Resident Neo Nazi dipshit, who, despite his skinhead friends and all the talk of superior races, is still more than happy to pay underage mutie Jews for sex. 

Erik isn’t proud of the handful of times its happened, but rent and grocery money has to come from somewhere and there aren’t exactly many options for gay mutant Jews. Not a soul knows about what’s happened between them and Erik is hoping it stays that way. Erik barely looks at Shaw as he asks, “What do you want, Shaw?” 

“Oh, nothing at all. Be a dear and fetch me a coffee” Shaw requests. It’s sleazy enough as it is, made worse by how he slides into the bench next to Erik. 

Erik grumbles softly. “I’m off the clock. Ask someone else.”

“You’re off the clock? Oh, lovely.” Shaw’s hand settles on his knee under the table and Erik briefly considers sending all the loose change in his pocket straight into Shaw’s ugly face. Briefly. “How have things been this month? Getting all those payments in on time?” 

“We’re doing fine this month. Thanks,” he mumbles curtly. “Can’t you go find another table for your own and let me have my dinner in peace? Not tonight, Shaw.” 

Across the diner, Charles glances up and catches his eye. It’s only for a second, but when he does, he looks at Shaw and frowns deeply. He looks very concerned about something, and Erik is suddenly very paranoid that Charles might suspect something between them. It’s the last thing Erik needs now. 

Shaw doesn’t seem to notice, instead continuing and letting his hand creep in even further up Erik’s leg. “Are you really sure? Think of it as planning ahead for next month. You and I can have a lot of fun together.” 

“I’m very sure, thanks,” Erik mumbles, scooting further away from him. Not that it does much good. It just presses him up against a wall instead. 

Erik’s sure Shaw would continue until Erik gives in, but Charles stalks over before it can go any further. Erik’s not actually sure which of the two alternatives is better. Charles grins easily at him, like they’re good friends and not on incredibly tense terms with each other. He goes to sit across from Erik, leaning over to steal a fry from his plate, like this is something they do all the time. Like this isn’t making Erik’s head explode trying to make sense of it. 

“Hello, Erik! I know we were meant to meet up in another fifteen minutes to work on our project, but I thought maybe we could just start early? If your… friend wouldn’t mind,” Charles says, gesturing unkindly to Shaw. 

Shaw gets the message and stands to leave with a very long sigh. “Perhaps our business preposition will go through some other time, Erik. Good night.” 

Erik’s ears turn bright red with shame and he wants nothing more than to hide away under a rock. When Shaw’s walked out of earshot, he turns to glare at Charles. “What was that for?” 

“You…” Charles shrugs weakly. “You looked like you could use some help.” 

Somehow, that makes Erik even more upset, the confirmation that Charles suspects something unsavory. “Look, I don’t know what you think you saw, but get it out of your head. Okay? You’re making things up.” 

“Look, Erik, I think there’s something I should tell you. I -” Charles is cut off before he can go any further, by one of his friends coming up to their table. 

He looks appalled to see Charles sitting with Erik and makes no effort to hide it. “I thought you said you were heading to the bathroom, Xavier? What are you doing chatting with this one here?”

“I’m just having a brief word with Erik, Timothy,” Charles says, composed as ever. “Surely you can stand to wait a minute.” 

“Yeah, whatever. Don’t take too long, though.” Timothy snickers. “You might end up catching the mutie germs.” 

“I’m afraid it might be a bit too late for that,” he answers. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Timothy frowns. 

Charles puts two fingers at his temple and a moment later, Timothy is pale and terrified before scrambling away back to their table. Erik has no idea what’s going on, and he wonders if perhaps that’s code for something in their little friend group, and then Charles turns back to him. Clear as day, Erik hears Charles’ voice ring out in his mind. 

_ Erik,  _ he says,  _ I’m afraid I haven’t been entirely honest with you.  _

  
  


\----

It’s nearly midnight when they leave the diner. They’d talked for a very long time, over many rounds of fries, until now Erik is  _ almost  _ over the resentment he feels at knowing that this whole time he’s been called a mutie freak by Charles’ friends, Charles was a mutant with an easier time hiding it. It makes Erik angry, yes, but he knows his anger is better off directed at the humans who force them into secrecy, not at Charles just doing his best to get by. 

This time, Erik accepts the ride to his house and they drive in near silence, save for the drizzle of rain against the roof and windshield. When they pull up at Erik’s house, he makes no move to get out. Instead, they sit in the silence for a few more minutes. The lights of his house are all out, anyway. No one will notice if he comes in a few minutes later. 

“So,” he finally says, breaking their silence. “You know, they won’t care that your their friend. Tomorrow, they’re going to be just as terrible to you as they are to me. You’re not Charles Xavier, anymore. You’re a mutie, now.”

“I know.” Charles nods.

“Why’d you do it, then?” Erik asks. 

Charles just shrugs. “Hiding away… it’s easy. But it didn’t feel right to let you take the brunt of it all like that. Erik, I’ve been quite terrible to you and I’m sorry. It shouldn’t have taken all you said to get me to realize it, but… here we are, I suppose.” 

Erik nods quietly. He hesitates for just a moment, but then decides there’s not much that can make this worse for either of them. He leans across the center console and gives Charles the quickest of kisses before he opens the car door to get out. “I get out of work at nine tomorrow. Maybe you could swing by and we’ll take a ride together. Have a chat under friendlier circumstances.”

“Yes… Yes, I’d like that.” 

“Great. See you then. And Charles?” 

“Yes?” 

“Remember to hold your head up high tomorrow. Mutant and proud.” 

**Author's Note:**

> for questions, prompts, or chatting I can be found on tumblr at [sebbym17](http://sebbym17.tumblr.com/) (I have a couple of prompts I still need to get to, but I get to them eventually, I promise!)


End file.
